


Soulmates

by EdenDaphne (edelet), KryallaOrchid, Maerynn, midnightstarlightwrites



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edelet/pseuds/EdenDaphne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KryallaOrchid/pseuds/KryallaOrchid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maerynn/pseuds/Maerynn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstarlightwrites/pseuds/midnightstarlightwrites
Summary: In every universe, in every lifetime, no matter what, they're soulmates...And maybe soulmates means different things to different people. But that doesn't stop them from finding each other. Every single time.Birthday gift for Lucky!





	1. Bruised Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Totally_lucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_lucky/gifts).



> As you like Soulmates AU, pretty Lucky, we figured we could come up with one for you!
> 
> We each chose an AU trope to explore, so these stories are in no way related to each other, except that they're all for Lucky.

 

### Bruised Hearts

#### Maerynn  
Bruises AU

A wide, blueish bruise suddenly spread on Adrien’s shoulder, tearing a frustrated groan from Claude’s throat. He stepped from behind his camera, assessing the damages on the young man’s skin. Shaking his head in resignation, the photographer sighed loudly, “Mr. Agreste, could you please ask your soulmate to be more careful? That’s the fourth time this happens this week.”

Adrien nodded with an absent smiled and watched, mesmerized, as the bruise marred his skin and took darker shades. That one must have hurt a lot. Whoever his soulmate was, they certainly had a tendency to hurt themselves rather often. It was never huge injuries, majorly scratches and bruises, sometimes small burns, but the frequency at which they happened was becoming worrisome. “As soon as I find them, Claude. I’m gonna wrap them in bubble wrap.”

“Make sure you do, that poor thing gets more bumps and scratches than an American footballer. Angela!” Claude suddenly called loudly, only to be answered by awkward silence. “Angela! Where is that mindless girl? ANGELA we need touch ups over here!”

Ignoring the commotion around him as assistants were trying to locate the missing makeup artist and resume the interrupted photoshoot, Adrien contemplated his new bruise, wondering yet again about his soulmate. What were they like? Did they have any siblings? Did they live in Paris, too? Were they happy, even without him by their side? What would their relationship be like once they’d find each other? Would they be platonic soulmates? Romantic? Would they get along right away, or would they have to grow comfortable with each other? Would it be love at first sight? Would his soulmate turn out to be someone he already know?

Adrien snorted at that last thought. There was no way someone close to him could hurt themselves that often without him noticing. Sure, he was aware that there were soulmates that unfortunately never met each other, but he refused to entertain the thought that he could be among them. Whoever his soulmate was, wherever they were, their paths would cross someday.

And they would fill the big, sore empty spot in his heart.

* * *

The inhuman shriek that left Chloe Bourgeois’ lips had been loud enough to alert the entire team working on the women’s line, prompting a curious crowd to rush into the studio like vultures to a dying animal. _Agreste’_ s lead female model was infamous for her ridiculous tantrums, and for getting away with anything she set her mind on, no matter how crazy her demands could be. She was Adrien Agreste’s childhood friend, and wasn’t afraid to play that card to get her way. The more lives she wrecked in her selfish path, the happier she was.

That’s why, that morning, nobody was shocked to witness Chloe slapping her makeup artist across the shoulder with her purse, hard, making the poor girl yelp loudly in pain.

“Those were designer clothes! Unique designs!” Chloe shrieked, her blouse dripping with iced coffee. “Those were worth ten times your monthly salary! Who do you think you are, ruining such fine clothes? Where is Uncle Gabriel? I demand justice!”

“What is the matter here?”

Everything went still at once in the room. Standing on the threshold, his arms linked in his back in his usual manner, Gabriel Agreste landed a stern scowl on his team. Chloe regained her bearings first, scrambling to the fashion mogul with a one-sided familiarity. “Uncle Gabriel! This stupid girl ruined your clothes! It’s unfair for someone as talented as I am to be stuck with such a useless twit. Can I get a _real_ makeup artist? Someone who will recognize my magnificent beauty, at last?”

Gabriel scoffed, and looked directly at Marinette. Her blood curdled in her veins and her breath went ragged. Gabriel Agreste’s outbursts were infamous, and the last thing she wanted was to be on the receiving end of one. No one ever walked away from a fight with that man with their jobs, and that frightened her to no end.

“Mlle Bourgeois is quite right, Mlle Dupain-Cheng. It is indeed unfair for someone so talented to be stalled working with someone so uncooperative as Mlle Bourgeois currently is.”

Marinette gaped at her boss for a second, trying to assert the words that had been just said to her and make sense out of them. At a complete loss, she finally uttered, “but, M. Agreste, w-what…?”

Gabriel smirked knowingly, ignoring the mute scream coming from the mayor’s daughter. “Hence why, effective immediately, you’ll be assigned as my son’s exclusive makeup artist.”

“But, Mr. Agreste, I’m not sure I can-” Marinette could almost see daggers in Chloe’s eyes, and not-so-subtle startled whispers were running through the witnessing crowd.

“Nonsense,” Gabriel cut short. “It has been brought to my attention that you’re by far the most qualified makeup artist on my staff. My son tends to get a lot of soulmate’s bruises, and I need them to be hidden thoroughly for the photoshoots. Can you do that?”

“I-I… I mean, yes, but-”

“That settles it then. Adrien has a photo shoot scheduled here tomorrow at eight. My assistant will send you the details along with what your new position entails. Have a nice day, Mlle Dupain-Cheng.”

Without another glance, Gabriel left the room, leaving a fuming Chloe and a stunned Marinette behind him.

* * *

“ _Another_ bruise?” were the first words out of Nino’s mouth upon seeing his best friend coming into the restaurant where they had agreed to meet.

Adrien laughed, looking at the rather large bruise spread on his forearm, “Yeah, that one just happened. Got another on the shoulder this morning, Claude was furious and my makeup artist was M.I.A. again. It was a huge mess.”

“Have you ever thought that, maybe, your soulmate… erm…” Nino trailed off, clearly uncomfortable. Adrien picked up on what he was trying to word, and sighed heavily.

“If they come from a violent background?” he said, Nino visibly relaxing in front of him, “Yes, I have. Everyday. But strangely enough, every scratch and bump makes me feel like I’m closer to them, you know?”

As soon as the words left his lips, a paper cut appeared on his left index finger. Nino followed his gaze to the brand new wound and sighed loudly, “You know, I never thought I’d find someone more prone to light wounds than Alya’s best friend, but your soulmate definitely takes the cake.”

“Hey, we all can’t be as lucky as you, Mr. I-Met-My-Soulmate-When-I-Was-Four.”

Nino merely scoffed, picking up the menu. “You’re only jealous Alya and I turned out to be romantic soulmates while yours is still a mystery.”

“Maybe,” Adrien smiled, “but I’m pretty damn sure they’re worth the wait.”

* * *

 

While Adrien and Nino were casually chatting, Nino’s girlfriend, Alya, was having an interesting conversation of her own with her best friend.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna pull this off, Al. I mean, he’s the boss’ son. It’s gonna be Chloe Bitchy Bourgeois all over again, but with the added pressure of losing my job at the first mistake.”

“But he’s a sex-symbol,” Alya teased, sparkles in her eyes. “Who knows, maybe he could free you from your two-year-long dry spell?”

Marinette’s fork halted halfway to her mouth, and she stared at her best friend with incredulous eyes. “You’re the one who taught me sleeping with your boss is a huge no-no, and my boss’ son is just as bad a mistake. Nothing’s gonna happen between us. If anything, he’s gonna be even worse than Chloe.”

“Oh, come on now, you can’t really be thinking that way,” Alya sighed as she pushed her plate of pastas toward her friend so she could pick out a shrimp. “Even if you're dating history is catastrophic, it doesn’t mean that all men are the same.”

Marinette shrugged, leaning back on her chair. “I tried, Alya, you know I did. What happened with Nate…”

“You’re being unfair, Mari. Nate tried to make amends when Aurore and he turned out to be platonic soulmates. He really loves you, you know? He would do anything for a second chance.”

A grimace graced Marinette’s lips upon hearing those words. “I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice. Nate wanting me back because it didn’t work out with Aurore stung, Alya. Badly.”

“It still took some gut to admit he had made a mistake and missed you, you know.”

A familiar frustration fired up into Marinette’s veins. She was tired of that discourse, tired of people telling her that it didn’t matter, that her ex-boyfriend had only made a mistake. That she should forgive him. They didn’t understand. How could they? Alya had met her own soulmate when she was four, and she and Nino had been happily dating for a few years already.

And dating anyone else was off the table, not until she’d found her soulmate. Once she’d find them, if they turned out to be platonic, maybe she’d try dating again. But not before then. She didn’t want to risk inflicting the kind of pain Nathanael had put her through on someone else. The hurt was still too fresh, the wound too great.

“It doesn’t change anything,” she sighed stubbornly. “He still chose his soulmate over me.”

* * *

The next morning found Marinette grumpy and running low on caffeine. She had overslept, had dropped her car keys in a puddle, and she realized way too late to fix it that she was still sporting the messy bun she had slept in.

The dressing room’s door opened, and a cheerful voice called, “Good morning!”

Marinette slowly turned around, barely able to repress a long, heavy sigh.

And knew instantly that she was totally, and utterly screwed.

Because Adrien Agreste was nothing short from worryingly handsome.

He had beautiful, kind green eyes that grazed upon her figure without lingering on any inappropriate locations. His blond mane was unkempt, sticking in every direction like someone who had likely just fallen out of bed.

He smiled at her warmly, holding out his hand with an eager expression. “Hi! I’m Adrien! So you’re my new makeup artist?”

Suddenly, Marinette felt like she was on autopilot. Her hand grasped his on its own accord, and she was adamant that he could hear her heart thumping furiously in her chest.

How was it fair that a single human being held that much beauty?

“Hey, Marinette, right? Do you think you could hurry with the makeup, I have to fix Sunshine’s legendary bedhead,” a tall girl with purple streaks in her hair suddenly asked, scaring the life out of Marinette.

With a loud shriek, she spun around, blushing up to the roots of her hair. “Right. Makeup,” she almost whispered to herself, her mind still slightly foggy from encounter with Adrien.

Unbeknownst to her, as she turned around, her complexion brush came in contact with her model’s forehead, hard. The wrong end poked just beside Adrien’s left eye, making Marinette’s heart jump uncomfortably in her chest. “I’m so sorry!”

His laugh came as music to her ears. A laugh genuine and free, that made her breath hitch in her throat.

She was done for.

Trying to shake her thoughts clear, she laughed awkwardly and scrambled away, organizing her brushes uselessly. “Gosh, I’m so clumsy, I’m really sorry. Your soulmate will definitely have a mark after this one, poor them.”

The noncommittal sound that answered her, and the way Adrien kept staring at her face after this went unnoticed by Marinette, and by the time she got home and walked in front of a mirror, the angry red spot right beside her left eye was long gone.

* * *

Marinette eventually regained her bearings and got used to work in close-quarters with the man that had found himself a cozy spot in her fantasies. She had become an expert at hiding the slight tremor of her fingers every time he called her “princess”, or the way her heart skipped a beat whenever his skin brushed hers.

They grew into a comfortable relationship with each other, always chatting casually whenever they were within hearing range. Adrien always seemed to be a step ahead of her when they were in the same building, opening doors for her, breaking her numerous falls, catching the stuff she dropped. With him beside her, she felt safe, like he held the power of stopping her long string of bad luck.

She began to notice small things as weeks went by. How all the other models were glued to their phones all through the makeup and hair process while Adrien was always giving her his undivided attention, talking with her of everything and nothing. How he always seemingly noticed when she wore her hair differently, how he brought her a coffee on every early morning shoots.

Their steadily solidifying friendship took a drastic turn the morning Adrien came in late to a photoshoot with red puffy eyes and tear streaks on his cheeks. Without asking any questions, Marinette worked her magic, the remains of his sadness vanishing under her expert fingers. She later came to learn that it was his mother’s death anniversary, and that he had arrived late to the photoshoot because he had visited the cemetery.

They became exponentially closer after that day, to the point where Marinette couldn’t imagine a life without Adrien in it.

To the point where she dreaded the day he’d leave her for his soulmate, too.The shill ringtone of her phone teared Marinette away from the pleasant dream she was having. Reluctantly leaving dream-Adrien’s arms, she reached out for the offending object and answered sleepily, “Hello?”

“Marinette? It’s Juleka. There’s been a mishap, the photographer lost all the shots from yesterday, we have to do it all over. How soon can you come in?”

She glanced at the hour on her alarm clock and stammered, “Erm… I-I’ll be there in twenty, give or take?”

“Perfect! See you!”

Considering the urgency in Juleka’s tone, Marinette decided to forego putting on pants and makeup, instead simply tying her hair into a braid and throwing a hoodie over her tank top. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d come into work wearing pajama pants, and certainly not the last either.

Out of breath, she burst through the dressing room’s doors a few minutes later, announcing cheerily, “Ok, I’m here, where’s my mo-”

The rest of her sentence died in her throat upon discovering the scene laid out before her eyes.

For, standing in front of her, was none other than Adrien Agreste, clad in pajamas of his own, smiling nervously next to a small table. Two plates with fresh croissants and fruits were waiting under the dim light of a candle, and the unmistakable aroma of coffee filled the air. “Adrien? Wh-where is everyone? What about the shoot?”

“Just a bait,” he answered meekly, “to bring the princess to the ball. Are you mad?”

Marinette watched, speechless, as he walked toward her slowly, like a predator on his prey. Her heart skipped a few beats, and she looked at him with big, questioning eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Marinette, would you go on a date with me?”

Memories of another encounter, another relationship that went down in flames, came back to her full fledge, and she sighed dejectedly. “I’m sorry Adrien, I can’t… I don’t want to start something knowing either of us can meet our soulmate any day, and destroy everything we’ve built. It would be unfair to both of us.”

With a soft, comforting smile, Adrien took a needle on the table and pricked his fingers lightly. Marinette gasped, stunned by his odd behaviour, “What are you doing?”

“Just look at your finger.”

Sure enough, a small drop of blood was pearling on the tip of her finger. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she whispered, “Do you really mean that…”

Without answering, Adrien pulled her close to him and pressed his lips on hers, wrapping his arms around her waist. He tasted coffee and smelled of vanilla, and Marinette melted in his embrace. She felt safe, felt at home within his warmth.

Once they broke apart for air, Adrien gently caressed her cheek, gazing into her eyes with something akin to adoration. “I love you, Marinette. My soulmate. My everything.”


	2. Where We Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnightstarlightwrites  
> Dream AU

Where We Meet

Marinette’s chest felt about as hollow and devoid of life as her bedroom.

She took a moment to soak in the feeling, before a wave of anger hit her and she hauled herself into the offending room, slamming the trap door shut behind her and stomping to her desk. Flopping onto her spinning chair, she let out a huff of air and just like that- the random burst of passion dissipated.

The hollowness settled back into her and her lips grew heavy, her skin felt dry- as though a layer of dust had gathered on it. She sighed, tired. But there was no way she was going to sleep. Not tonight. Not when her worst fears were confirmed and then some…

“Marinette…” Tikki’s voice was cautious, soft and concerned from somewhere behind her shoulder, and the young heroine couldn’t stand it. “I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear right now but, it’s really not as bad as you think it is.”

“Not as _bad?_ ” Marinette scoffed, incredulous. “Tikki, I- he- we- Chat- I- UGH!” She threw her hands up into the air, jerking her body in frustration before slinking back down in her seat right now. There was so much going on in her head, too much, that any words died in a jumbled mess on her tongue. Her chin wobbled and she felt a lump rose in her throat. “Soulmates…” she choked.

“Oh Marinette,” Tikki whispered sadly, floating up to her face and dabbing at her now wet cheeks. “Fu didn’t mean it like that.”

But Fu _had_ meant it like that. Of that, Marinette was sure. Ever since the moment she’d stepped up and chosen to be the Ladybug the city needed, ever since she’d accepted the miraculous, she’d been plagued with dreams. Those dreams, Fu confirmed, were exactly what Marinette had begun to suspect they meant. After many a sleepless night, with nothing but the glow of her screen monitor and the research she discovered burning her eyes, her denial had been strong. It’d staved off the fears even as the dreams had grown clearer.

At first, they’d been vague and sporadic; a familiar voice here, a shadow of a person there. But, as she settled into her new role as one half of Paris’ superhero duo, the dreams had become a regular nightly occurrence. The shadow-persons voice grew stronger, less like listening to a bad phone connection and more like talking to someone in the room next door. Along with the stronger voice, came glimpses of the person. Green eyes, blonde hair, a kind smile that could melt the coldest of hearts.

Marinette had thought she’d been dreaming of Adrien- her school crush of the past few months. Ok, crush didn’t cover it. Marinette was in love, besotted, blown away by Adrien’s gentleness, his sweetness and his warm heart. The fact that he was handsome, and a model, was just a bonus.

But, the night after Valentine’s day, everything had changed…

She’d had to kiss Chat Noir, kiss him to break the spell and save the day from yet another akuma. After that, Marinette had dragged herself to bed, emotionally exhausted, embarrassed-

And she’d dreamed about _Chat_. Not Adrien. Chat Noir. Her _partner_.

That’s when she realised, the recurring dreams had been about him, had always been about him.  It was unmistakable, the voice, the ears, the mask, the piercing eyes. But the strangest thing, was that _he’d dreamed of her too._ She knew because he’d said as much the night after. They’d said goodbye after a successful patrol. He’d been laughing and flirting as usual.

 _“I’ll see you in my dreams my lady,”_ he’d bowed, _“and I do mean that literally.”_

His smirk had fallen once he’d caught the look on her face. Redness crept up his cheeks and he stood upright, shuffling, suddenly shy. It was weird, how much they could read each other, how much they both _knew_ what the other was thinking.

_“You have them too?”_

Marinette had started researching that same night, refusing to sleep a wink until she had the answers she needed. It wasn’t until her third night without sleep that Tikki had suggested, fearful for her chosen’s mental health, that she seek out the help of the Guardian.

And Fu had told her everything. He’d told her that, ever since the miraculous wielders had come to be, this phenomenon had existed. None of the guardians had ever been able to fully explain it, nor had any kwami, but it was extremely rare, the ability to visit another miraculous user in their dreams. For months, Ladybug had been visiting Chat Noir and vice versa. According to Fu, that meant one thing-

“Soulmates means soulmates, Tikki,” Marinette sighed, exhausted and crushed beyond all measure. “Chat Noir is my soulmate. Adrien who? Guess I don’t have a say in anything. Guess I’ve never had a choice.”

“No, no, no, Marinette! That’s not what that means,” Tikki soothed, frowning. Scrubbing furiously at her eyes, Marinette swivelled in her chair and rested her arms on her desk, using them as a pillow as she laid her cheek against them. Tikki was not to be deterred, it seemed, as the kwami flew down to nestle into the crook of one of Marinette’s elbows. “I will admit that soulmate these days means a romantic partner, someone who’s supposed to be perfect for you, but to _us_ it means so much more. In the ancient times, a soulmate never meant a perfect lover, but a perfect _partner_. It’s someone you have a deep spiritual connection with!”

Marinette stared at Tikki with wide eyes, but said nothing else.

“It’s someone who understands you on every level, and you understand them, someone who works with you as naturally as breathing, whose trust you have implicitly, who you love with a fire you never knew you had but don’t have to be _in love_ with,” Tikki went on, her eyes twinkling playfully. “You don’t have to have kiss someone like that do you?”

Marinette flew upright, her face burning “T-Tikki!”

Tikki giggled, only encouraged by Marinette’s outburst. “I’m excited for you, Marinette! Only a handful of Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s have had this happen to them and it always means something good! At the very least, the ability to visit each other in their dreams provided useful in times of conflict, and added an extra layer to their trust. I promise you, you can still be in love with Adrien and be soulmates with Chat Noir.”

Marinette let Tikki’s words circle around her mind restlessly. It didn’t seem right to her, to have a soulmate and be in love with someone else. To her, it was like she was betraying them both in some way. It felt as though her head was ripping apart, like a flimsy piece of paper pulled in different directions until it split down the middle.

“But you know,” Tikki mused, tapping her paw against her chin, “now I think about it, there’s really no reason for you two to hide your identities anymore! If you’re soulmate wielders, it’s probably _safer_ if you share your identities!”

Marinette felt her blood freeze over. “W-what?!”

“Of course, it’s your decision!” Tikki hurried to say. “I know how confused you feel, and I don’t want you to think you don’t have a choice. You always have a choice. Not every Ladybug and Chat who were soulmates fell in love you know! Some were the best of friends, some got married sure, but some were lovers with no romantic feelings!”

Marinette buried her face in her hands. “I don’t want to even think about stuff! Kissing Chat was more than enough for now!”

Tikki’s eyes flashed. “For noooow? You mean you want to kiss him _moooore_?”

“Tikki,” Marinette whined. “Stop teasing me. You knew what I meant!”

Giggling, Tikki floated up to nuzzle Marinette. “Ok, ok, I’ll stop. Like I said, all this means is that you two are going to work really, really, well together. Even better than you are now! Now I know you two are soulmates, I’m even more certain you two will be able to defeat Hawkmoth, and that’s what matters most isn’t it?”

Marinette smiled, feeling a little reassured. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

***

Marinette had fallen asleep at her desk. She was sure. Mainly because she was still at her desk, only now it was floating in a giant misty wasteland. It took her a few blinks before she realised where she was, and the desk disappeared when it did. She was alone, standing in the abyss of… wherever it was when she came here. She supposed Fu or Tikki might be able to explain it to her more.

The dreams where she met Chat had always looked like this, like floating aimlessly in a gloomy cloud. For song, long he’d been lingering in the depths of the cloud, just out of her sight. She supposed it must have been the same for him too.

 _Soulmate, soulmate, soulmate._ The word whispered around her, in every drop of moisture that floated in front of her, and she wondered- had the mist always been so bright? It felt brighter today, clearer, like the sun was trying to destroy it. She lifted up her hand, red-gloved. Here, in this dream-world, she was always Ladybug. She wondered if, whenever (if ever) she confessed her identity to Chat, that would ever change. But she quickly squashed the idea flat. She couldn’t take it just yet.

“Oh, thank god!”

A blur, and a pair of arms, wrapped around her before she could register them. She didn’t stumble though, as it was only a dream (only it wasn’t, was it? Ugh soulmates and dreams- it was all so confusing).

“I was so worried when I didn’t see you for two nights,” Chat was squeezing her, his chin resting on her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around him on instinct. “I thought I’d made you go away.”

Her heart fluttered, her stomach flipped for reasons completely out of her control, because he’d just blamed himself for her freak out. Chat really was so sweet, and kind, and gentle with her even in their dreams and _oh no._

 _Soulmates don’t have to mean love like that,_ she reminded herself stubbornly, even as she pulled away from their embrace, bopping him on the nose. “As if you could ever make me do that,” she chided with a grin. “You’re stuck with me, Kitty.”

He smiled, and god had he ever looked so clear in that moment? Like a ray of morning sunlight bursting through a pair of blinds. “I guess so, considering I’m literally the man of your dreams hmm?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her and it was then she realised that they hadn’t exactly stopped hugging. Their arms were still around each other.

She covered her flustered state by rolling her eyes, offering him a groan as she stepped out of his hold. God, when she told him they were soulmates, he was going to be _relentless_. “You’re im-paw-ssible.”

“I don’t mean to _bug_ ,” he replied, running his hand through his hair. As soon as he finished his preening, his hand dropped by his side and he fixed her with a serious stare. “Seriously though, are you really ok? I get that it was…kinda crazy, realising that we both share dreams. I guess it’s something to do with the miraculous. But I got really worried when I didn’t dream about you for the past couple of nights.” He shrugged, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I got used to having you around.”

Had her heart felt like it was going to explode before? Because it was nothing to how it felt now, staring at him pouring his heart out, reminding her of something.

Chat blinked, looking up in bemusement. “It’s raining?”

Ladybug looked up too, noting that the fog had lifted, where they were standing was nothing but a blur; vague shapes that could have been a building if she squinted hard enough. But one thing was for definite. “Yeah, it’s raining.”

“I didn’t think this place could change!” Chat chirped brightly, reaching out to touch the phantom raindrops with a quiet smile that Ladybug couldn’t tear her eyes away from. He turned to her, all eagerness and curiosity, and she couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at the sight. “You think we can control it Bugaboo?”

Ladybug stared at him for a moment, considering the question.

Tikki had said that things were still very much in her control, but her heart was telling her otherwise.

It seemed she had a soft spot for kind boys standing in the rain.

Whatever was happening was complicated, and she wasn’t quite ready to face the situation nor its full implications. But, as she closed her eyes and imagined, the raindrops began to glow around her and thunder rumbled in the distance, she began to smile.

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, opening her eyes and kicking up puddles that hadn’t been there a second ago. She turned to Chat and extended her hand. “But I guess we might as well enjoy it, right?”

The morning after, Marinette woke up at her desk with a stiff neck, a smile on her face, and a memory of dancing in the rain with a kind boy with green eyes and a heart as warm as a gentle summer’s day…

 


	3. Small Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midnight: The chapter was written entirely by Kryalla! I was only the one to upload it :3

### Small Gods

#### KryallaOrchid  
Kwami AU

 

 

Marinette was seven the first time she saw another kwami other than her own darling Tikki. A small black, cat-like kwami following a boy. One scant glance through the bakery shop window was all she got before the boy and kwami was lost to the crowd of people outside.

She tried to convince herself it must have been a stuffed toy.

After all, the only kwami anyone was ever supposed to see was their own.  Everyone had one, a tiny little guardian deity that stayed with their chosen from the day they were born, until the day they depart. But they weren’t visible to anyone else.

The effects of a kwami could be seen, invisible objects moving, small notes or letters on a chalkboard, seeing their kwami sleeping in an impossible floating position and just knowing they were in what was known as a ‘kwami pile’. A loving brush of fluff to a cheek, or a sting or a bite to an unruly family member. Her mother’s kwami, Deedee, used to nip as a warning on Marinette’s bad behaviour when she was younger, and her father’s kwami, Nollan, loved to snuggle at night. Little invisible balls of fluff and love.

But to  _see_  another kwami?

Tikki smiled when Marinette mentioned it to her and said that it happened. Sometimes people will be compatible to other kwami as well as their own. Deedee wrote via her chalk board not to worry. Nollan cuddled up in her neck. They didn’t seem concerned so Marinette brushed it aside.

She saw the black kwami occasionally.

Once during the markets before a Christmas celebration when she was ten. She pushed her way through the crowd in search of the kwami, but only managed to see a snatch of blond hair before Sabine called her name.

Once, at the park by her house. There’d been some sort of photo shoot. Lots of models about her age milling about, even more adults to supervise, makeup artists and hairdressers, photographers and lighting experts. There’d been a kwami pile occurring on the edge of the park, Marinette knew because Tikki zipped down off the terrace to join, and she’d seen the black one wriggle free and disappear. Marinette hadn’t made it downstairs in time to see where the black kwami had gone.

She knew whoever the black kwami belonged to didn’t go to her school. The kwami piles in the classroom were evident of that. But whoever it was, they lived somewhere in her neighbourhood.

Over the years, she grew used to kwami spotting. There was a strange yearning in her chest every time she spotted the kwami, an unusual ache and a need to know who the black cat belonged to and why she could see it at all.

“Do I look alright?” Marinette asked Tikki, brushing down the fabric of her dress. Little tugs at the bottom helm told her that one of her parent’s kwamis, Deedee most like, was fussing around to help it sit better.

“You look gorgeous,” Tikki squealed, spinning happily in the air. “Deedee and Nollan think so too. Nollan says this is the best thing you’ve ever created.”

“Thank you, Nollan!” Marinette told the air where she thought the little bear kwami was. “I’m so proud of it.”

For Chloe’s sixteenth birthday, the Mayor had organised a ball, and for the first time, he had insisted that Chloe invite her classmates to the event. Which meant Alya and Marinette would get to go. Neither of them cared for Chloe herself as she was a spoilt brat and a bully with a viper tongue, but the chance to go to a ball was something neither of them wanted to miss out on.

Marinette, a budding fashion designer, had designed her own dress and spent weeks painstakingly crafting it. The theme was a kwami masquerade ball, so Marinette had modelled it after her own precious little bug. A black bodice with a sheer red overlay, flowing down into a princess skirt which was red and spotted. Marinette had even managed to it appear like a ladybug’s carapace on the back of her skirt. Since she needed a mask as well, she put her hair into pigtails to resemble bug antennae and slipped on a red spotted mask.

Tikki dropped down and nestled in the pocket Marinette had built for her little kwami. “This is so exciting! A kwami ball!”

“I know!” Marinette replied, nuzzling into the touches she felt against her cheek from her parent’s kwamis, before she headed downstairs to let her parents gush over her.

Her best friend, Alya, met Marinette in the foyer of the Mayor’s hotel, dressed in a slinky, orange and white, fox-themed dress, complete with fox ears and an orange mask across her eyes. “Marinette! You look so good!”

Marinette squealed and hugged her friend close. “You look amazing! Tonight is going to be so much fun!”

The ballroom itself was dazzling. Brilliant golds and blacks, striped signs and a three tier, bee themed birthday cake. Chloe had a bee kwami like Sabine’s, a little thing she affectionately called Polly. Polly was the only one who Marinette knew could claim any affection from the girl as everyone else was treated with utter disdain, or, like Sabrina, indifference, but the kwami was doted on. It was quite clear that Chloe was honouring her kwami with the colour scheme and choice of dress.

So many glamourous people. So many colours and kwami representations. Marinette thought she could see animals from all over the world, from peacocks to emu, lizards and snakes, insects of all sorts, turtles and fish, elephants and pandas. The kwami weren’t an animal, but as people tended to assign anthropomorphic animal-types to the kwami.

Maybe tonight she’d finally find the black kwami.

“Look at this place,” Marinette said, twirling in a circle as she tried to take in all the decorations. “Amazing.”

Alya’s hand curled around Marinette’s wrist. “Dance with me!”

Flashing her a smile, Marinette allowed Alya to pull her toward the dance floor. Tikki zipped from Marinette’s pocket to greet the invisible Trixx, Alya’s kwami, and the girls giggled as their kwami’s danced in what Marinette could only assume was a copy of Alya and Marinette’s exaggerated waltz.

They danced and raided the buffet. They met up with friends and classmates. Marinette danced with Ivan and Alya danced with Kim, before stealing Marinette away from Max for another dance.

About half way through the night, as Marinette giggle-twirled under Alya’s arm, she lost her balance and tripped on the hem of her dress. Alya’s fingers slipped from Marinette’s and the world tilted. Marinette squeezed shut her eyes, preparing to become intimately acquainted with the ballroom floor.

Someone caught her.

Strong arms on the small of her back and a warmth which radiated. She felt strangely rattled by the jolt of electricity surging through her from their sudden touch.

 “This was not how I imagined someone would fall for me.”

Embarrassed that someone saw her tumble and was fast enough to catch her, and irrationally irritated that her re-acquaintance with the floor was so rudely interrupted by a pun of all things, Marinette snapped, “Really? That pun was horr—” She opened her eyes, ready to rebuke and clapped eyes on her saviour.

Green eyes, like a forest canopy, the type she could lose herself in easily. A messy mop of golden blond hair. A smile that was dropping by the second. Black cat ears and a dark suit.

 _Black cat_. Like the elusive kwami that haunted her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and lifted her up until she was upright. “I have a tendency to pun when surprised. Are you okay?”

 “Chat Noir,” she breathed, somewhat awed she might finally get to meet the chosen of the little black kwami. She had so many questions for him, but first she had to confirm that he owned the kwami she’d been seeing. Kwami sometimes had similar markings and appearances, like both Sabine and Chloe having bee kwami, so Marinette wanted to know she had the right one. “Well, I suppose puns are better than pushing ornaments off a shelf.”

A broad smile lit up his face and he bowed at the waist. “At your service, Mademoiselle Ladybug.” Still bowed, he offered her his hand. “May this kitty have this dance?”

Marinette glanced over her shoulder at Alya, who grinned eagerly at her and nodded, making shooing motions with her hand.

Reaching for his hand, she said, “Sure.”

Straightening from his bow, he stepped closer to her, intertwined their fingers and placed his hand on her hip. Then he hesitated and in an unsure voice said, “Ahh… is this okay? This is how I learned to dance, I don’t know any other way.”

Heat flooding her face, Marinette placed her hand on his shoulder. “Yes. It’s fine.”

Chat Noir puffed out a breath and eased them into a slow waltz. “Ahh, good. This is my first ball and I never quite know what’s socially acceptable.”

“It’s my first ball too,” Marinette replied and smiled. “Learning to dance is a two-step process.”

Chat Noir’s face lit up. “I’m sure I can keep you on your toes.”

“As long as you don’t two-step on them.”

“You already said that one.”

“Dancing puns aren’t my forte,” she replied.

“You mean,  _foot_ -e.”

Marinette giggled. 

Grinning, Chat Noir twirled her under his arm. “I’m Adrien.”

She spun back into his arms. “Marinette.”

He tilted his head at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at Chloe’s events before.”

Marinette’s heart sank a little. That meant that Adrien walked in the same social circles as Chloe did and might have the same sort of personality lurking beneath that nice exterior. “It’s my first.”

“Ahh. You must be one of her classmates then,” Adrien said and Marinette’s heart sank lower as she began to dread what Chloe might’ve said. “She told me she was inviting them.”

She spoke hesitantly, trying to judge his reactions, “Yeah.”

“That’s great!” he proclaimed.

Marinette asked, “It is?”

“We’ll probably be classmates soon, too!” Adrien chirped, smiling brightly. “My father finally agreed to send me to school instead of being home schooled. You’ll have to show me around.”

“Ugg,” muttered a voice. “You’re so chipper. Tone it down. Going to school is going to be as boring as staying at home.”

Adrien’s smile faltered. He frowned and lifted his hand from Marinette’s hips to tap his pocket. “Shh. Stop it, Plagg.”

Marinette felt like her heart was going to explode. “What?”

“Sorry,” he said, sheepish. “My kwami is a pain sometimes and—”

Something black shot out of his pocket. “I am not a pain! You take that back.”

She stared at the small black kwami facing off against Adrien.

“Stop it,” Adrien said with an apologetic glance at Marinette.

 She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. It was him. It was the black kwami, the one she wasn’t supposed to see. The one she wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Plagg!” Adrien snapped and made a grab for the kwami. “You can have cheese later.”

Plagg dipped and dove and dodged Adrien’s hands. “You have camembert in your pocket right now! Why can’t I have that?”

“Camembert?” Marinette asked.

“Yeah,” Adrien said, rolling his eyes as he swatted at his kwami.

“And he  _won’t_  share,” Plagg wailed.

Tikki, who’d poked her head out of Marinette’s pocket to see what the fuss was about, giggled. “He hasn’t changed.”

“It keeps him—” Adrien said and paused. “Wait.” His eyes flicked from Plagg to Marinette, then to Marinette’s pocket.

Marinette took a step back from him, confused, unsure and incredibly nervous. It was him. It was  _them_. She wasn’t the only one who could see someone else’s kwami. Adrien could clearly see hers.

What should she do now? Where do they go from here?

Adrien’s face took on a look of awe. “It’s  _you_.”

Marinette’s hands curled toward her chest as she stared at him.

Plagg turned to look at her. He dipped and dove side to side and Marinette’s eyes followed him. “Ooh, hey, it’s your soulmate.”

Tikki darted out from Marinette’s pocket to scold, “Plagg!”

Adrien took a step toward her and grabbed her hand, clearly excited. “I’ve been looking for you for  _years_!”

“Soulmates?” Marinette squeaked at Tikki. “ _What_?”

“Adrikiiiiiins!” a piercing voice sang.

Adrien braced and Marinette stared with eyes wide as Chloe pounced on Adrien. She clutched at his arm and shook him. “There you are, Adrien Agreste! You promised me a dance!”

Adrien. Adrien  _Agreste_. The son of the great fashion designer Gabriel Agreste and the lead model in his father’s adolescent line. How had she not recognised him?!

Adrien beamed happily, unable to take his eyes off Marinette. “Chloe! I  _found_  her!”

Chloe’s jaw dropped. “What?  _Her_? How— but—”

“This is the best day,” Adrien said, practically dancing on the spot. “My best friend’s sixteenth and I get to finally meet the love of my life.”

Marinette panicked. It was all too much. She couldn’t deal with it. She tore her hand free from Adrien’s and bolted.

Adrien called after her but Marinette didn’t stop to listen. Alya called her name, her tone worried, and Marinette spared her a wave and a rushed, “Gotta go, bye!” before she fled the ballroom itself.

Out in the foyer of the hotel, Marinette ignored the loitering people in kwami dress and sped toward the exit.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, flying alongside her. “Why are you running?”

“Soulmates?” Marinette blurted, lifting up her skirt so she could run faster. “Like, do-or-die kind of love? The ‘no-choice’ kind? That’s not—”

“No,” Tikki replied, soothing. “Two souls destined to have a great impact on each other, that’s all. It’s more of a… soul connection, rather than a love connection. It doesn’t have to be—”

“He said 'love of his life'!” Marinette retorted, her head reeling. “He  _just_  met me!”

“What can I say?” Plagg drawled, flying alongside Marinette. “My boy’s a hopeless romantic.”

Skidding to a halt, Marinette rounded on the cat kwami. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with him!”

“Oh, please,” Plagg scoffed. “We’ve been looking for you for years. I’m not about to let him go into mope-mode because you decided to Cinderella him. You didn’t even leave a shoe.”

Marinette stared at him, then reached down and plucked off one of her shoes.

“I was kidding!” Plagg said, dodging out of the way of the flying slipper.

The slipper made a sad plop against the floor and Marinette turned away.

“I’d settle for your phone number,” Adrien said in a meek voice.

Marinette squeaked and spun to face the ballroom door.

Adrien stood there with a forlorn look on his face. Beyond him stood a flabbergasted Chloe and a concerned Alya, both of them watching and waiting.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien said and even his kitty ears drooped. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” He shifted his eyes to Tikki. “We just… I was excited. We kept seeing your kwami but could never find you and… now you’re here and I’m screwing it all up!”

Eyes wide and heart pounding, Marinette gave a nervous twitter. “I kept seeing  _your_  kwami and couldn’t see you. When I saw your black cat outfit… I hoped— I thought maybe I’d get to finally meet you.”

Adrien gave a hopeful smile. “Me too!”

“But soulmates?” Marinette asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “That’s not— not what I was expecting.”

“No!” Adrien blurted, thrusting out his hands. He shook his head and fumbled for his words. “It doesn’t have to be! It’s… like destiny, we’re supposed to meet because we can see each other’s kwamis and… but it doesn’t have to be like… in love or whatever. Just… we’re meant to know each other, that’s all. I was excited and— only if we— it’s just… I don’t have a lot of people in my life, my father’s very protective and— and knowing there was someone out there I’d one day get to— I’m doing this all wrong.”

Plagg dipped down and settled on Adrien’s shoulder. “He’s very naïve,” he said, conversationally. “Got all his moves from anime movies and such. Love at first sight.”

Adrien gave Plagg an unhappy look.

“This is why we don’t tell them,” Tikki scolded Plagg.

Plagg scoffed. “When have I ever followed the rules? We’re gods, Tikki. On the small side, but we don’t make mistakes.”

Tikki rolled her eyes but Marinette could sense an old affection behind the action. They’d done this particular dance many times before. “How’d I get stuck with you?”

“Because you’re a lucky bug,” Plagg said, grinning.

Adrien ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not very good at this.”

Marinette swallowed. “Me either.”

“Can we start over?” he asked and thrust out his hand. “Hi. I’m Adrien Agreste, dumbass-in-training. I can be over-the-top about a great many things but I’d really like a chance to get to know you. No strings attached. That’s all I’m asking.”

She wanted to know him too. He seemed nice and kind and very genuine. Funny too, and perhaps a hopeless romantic if he’d gotten the idea of true love from anime.  And, somehow, he was best friends with Chloe. She would’ve expected this to be a huge practical joke, except that she could see Plagg hovering there, smirking at her.

She wanted to know about Plagg and Adrien and everything else in between. And the only way she was going to do that was if she stayed. Kwami didn’t make mistakes, they were meant to guide and protect. She could deal with the whole ‘soulmate’ aspect later. Much later. Right now, maybe she could have a new friend.

“Marinette,” she said and took his hand. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“The bakery!” Adrien gasped. “We were so close. All this time, we’ve been so close.”

“I have questions,” Marinette said, cautious.

“Me too. You first.”

She started with the simplest one. “Does he really eat camembert? Doesn’t that make his farts stink?”

Adrien stared at her for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed.


	4. Freed in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by EdenDaphne (aka. edelet)
> 
>  
> 
> Everyone knew that if you had a soulmate, you would know them by the first time you touched. Skin-to-skin contact would show you all of your soulmate's memories, and would result in an immediate bond and intense fidelity.

      
 

"I've never been to school before.  I've never had friends. It's all sort of new to me."  Adrien shrugged sheepishly and turned back towards Marinette.

He smiled, holding his umbrella out to her.

An olive branch, she realized. An invitation to start over.  Marinette thought back to how quickly and harshly she misjudged him; he was but another victim of her tendency to act first and act questions later. 

He hadn't deserved such treatment and here he was, taking the initiative to make things right. Her stomach fluttered, and had she not been so tongue-tied she would have apologized, but nothing came out.

A crash of thunder brought her back from her reverie and she blinked. 

She hesitantly lifted her hand, wavered for a moment, then their hands brushed together as the umbrella was exchanged.

    

Thousands of words and feelings came rushing towards them at once, so sudden and overwhelming that they fell helpless to its current, a tumultuous river of events and places. They could not tear their eyes away from each other, the realization of what was occurring rooting them to the spot, otherwise they might have collapsed right then and there from the shock.

The world ceased to be, and all that existed was a boy and a girl.  A cacophony of voices and emotions surrounded them, unheard to anyone else, accompanied by the quiet spattering of early autumn rain.

Adrien felt warmth. The smell of butter and sugar, the taste of hot chocolate and cinnamon. Lingering embraces, playful pats on the head, a mother's love and comfort. Strong arms and tight hugs, excited hollers, mashing buttons on videogame controllers. A homey, comfortable bedroom, a haven from the world. Pinpricks on fingertips, the act of plunging into an artistic frenzy, and the satisfaction from when a creation turned out just right. Tripping, slipping, stumbling here and there, always seeming to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Numerous insecurities, the bullying and mocking from a sneering face he knew very well. Overwhelming self doubt as a certain pair of earrings was hidden away in a drawer. Gentle hands on her shoulders, encouraging words, and a reassuring smile from a black clad teammate. The surge of newfound confidence as she purified corruption and evil in the form of a black butterfly.

Marinette felt cold. Countless faceless figures staring, prodding, scrutinizing, empty praises, blinding flashes and camera shutters. A stunning woman with golden hair and emerald eyes, once a source of comfort, gone. The constant feeling of loneliness, abandonment and despair. The infrequent acknowledgement from the one man he wanted to please the most. His large, empty bedroom, a glass prison meticulously outfitted just for him and his boundless solitude. The feeling of the crisp air in his lungs and the burning in his legs from the very first time he sprinted and jumped across Parisian rooftops to see how fast he could go. The thrill of watching the girl in red who was meant to be his other half, brilliant and beautiful, rescuing his childhood friend from certain death, formulating ingenious strategies, and defeating a magical giant made of stone.  Sheer pride at seeing her succeed against her fears and become not just a hero, but a symbol of goodness. The love brimming within his heart, spilling over into what used to be emptiness. How can such a broken heart still house such great love and kindness?  Her eyesight became blurred by tears, unbidden and unstoppable.

    

It lasted merely an instant but it felt like a lifetime, and the teens pulled away from each other as if they'd been shocked by electricity.  Neither made a move but continued to stare, the tears kept flowing, and Adrien choked back a sob.  

They had found each other.  Partners, yes, but also something more.  

The light to his darkness. 

The calm to her chaos. 

Something rare and wonderful had been gifted to them and fate had allowed them to meet and become complete.  

Marinette jolted forward, wrapping her arms around Adrien's waist as tightly as she was able, wanting to offer whatever solace she could, the comfort and love he so desperately needed, fiercely determined to try to make up for all those years of neglect and loneliness. 

He clung to her as if she would disappear at any moment, almost convinced that this was too good to be true, too wonderful, too miraculous. 

Feelings of protectiveness and devotion consumed him, not understanding how he could harbor such intense love for someone he didn't know.  But he did know her, and she knew him. 

More than anyone else in the world ever did.

The umbrella lay forgotten on the pavement as the two teens embraced in the rain, not noticing or caring that they were getting drenched, for the love that was shared between them was more than enough to keep them warm.

    


End file.
